Many specialties didn't sound all that reassuring, given that he might still be a bad guy... but at least he wasn't denying it. Bad guys usually denied these kinds of things, right?
And that was when the bomb dropped.
F.M.L. was Dinah's first thought.
Honestly? She wasn't all that surprised. No, that was wrong. She was incredibly surprised; and annoyed that she was surprised. Between both of her parents, all of Gotham knew Dinah, she didn't know why she thought she could go to a bar and have a good time with a completely normal, nice, cute random guy. Noooo, of course not. And who the hell was Hawkman anyway? Well, at least Dinah knew how she'd be spending the rest of her evening-- at home, alone, pouring through her mother's old case files to dig up everything she could about this person she'd never seen before. Fun stuff.
All of her defenses that had eased and relaxed from the dancing and drinks and conversation were back up in full force. In an instant, she went the carefree, confidence woman at the bar to someone else; someone just as confident but far, far more dangerous.
"Yeah, men often get our legs confused." She bit back with steel in her voice, taking one step back away from him and still eyeing him warily.
It wasn't the first time she'd been mistaken for her mother; sometimes she did it on purpose to go after someone from her mother's case files-- and it wasn't the first time someone had been ogling her figure only to say how much she and her mother looked alike. That really didn't make it any less creepy, particularly when - up until twenty seconds ago- the guy in question was ranking high on her list of things to do tonight. Yeah, no. There went that plan.
And how could he have run with her mother? The first Black Canary had (mostly) retired after getting pregnant. There was no way that this guy was that much older than he. He was maybe Hal or Bruce's age at the oldest. And what the hell was he doing here? Looking for her? Was this some kind of con or trick? What was his game?
This wasn't the best place to beat answers out of someone (same could have been said for Dinah's dress) so she took a breath to center herself, but didn't take her eyes off of him, walled up and guarded against anymore surprises.
"Let's talk about this somewhere else." She said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over the pounding music and took his hand (more to keep from making a scene than anything else) and lead him to a clear spiral staircase that lead up to a small rooftop garden decorated with twinkling white Christmas lights, and a few stone benches amidst the foliage, all housed by a wall-less pavilion and clear greenhouse-like ceiling.
It was chilly, and wet from the continuous drizzle that started in late September which kept the majority of sane guests inside; which at least gave them some privacy, and quiet. If she was cold, Dinah didn't let on, and turned towards him with her feet planted, naturally finding her footing in case of a fight.
"So, Mr. Hall, why don't you start by telling me how exactly you know my mother, then we can move on to what the hell you think you're playing at."